


Blue Neighbourhood

by elenawrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Sharing a Bed, WIP, it's very brief i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7916647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenawrites/pseuds/elenawrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While escaping a party, Harry finds himself inviting a drunk Draco Malfoy into his bed for the night.</p><p>(A songfic of sorts in which every chapter is inspired by a song from Troye Sivan's 'Blue Neighbourhood'.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Neighbourhood

**Author's Note:**

> alright so I've never written a full-on chaptered fic before, but I'm giving it a shot now!

It had just started out as a bit of air.

 _"Potter_! H-hey, Potter!"

A bit of air that Harry was beginning to regret.

In the stifling heat of the party down in Hufflepuff, the idea of the cold and snow of the astronomy tower had seemed refreshing, calm, compared to the madness downstairs. Everyone had already passed tipsy, and Harry didn't particularly fancy a common room full of drunk teenagers at the moment.

Which, of course, was why Draco Malfoy was stumbling closer to him, laughing bitterly and clutching an almost-empty bottle of firewhiskey.

Fate did not seem to like Harry very much.

"Malfoy," said Harry, sidestepping the drunk boy and moving to lean against the railing of the tower. He could see the lamp shining outside Hagrid's hut from up here, the snowflakes swirling around it illuminated.

Harry was just wishing he'd brought a heavier jacket, or a scarf—who would've known he'd get so cold so quickly when out of the party?—when a warm weight was slung around his shoulders. He jumped slightly, and, hearing another laugh from his left, looked up next to him.

Malfoy was standing at his side, arm around his shoulders, just laughing quietly. Harry groaned internally. This was _not_ what he had expected to find when all he'd wanted was a way out of the bloody heat.

"Potter," Malfoy said, raising the bottle of firewhiskey to his lips, arm still around Harry. "I think I hate you."

Yes, Harry was done with this conversation. He hadn't wanted to hang around drunk students, and Malfoy wasn't an exception. He lifted Malfoy's hand off of his shoulder and stepped away.

"Interesting. I hadn't realized."

"No?" A smile grew on Malfoy's face. "Then my efforts have been wasted for the past seven years."

"Shame." Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and started for the door back to the stairs. He'd go back to the dormitory, probably calmer now that it was late, full of students that just wanted to pass out and sleep for a day or two after their respective activities that night.

"No, Potter!"

A hand caught at Harry's elbow, a pale, quivering hand that tugged at his arm, silently willing him to stay.

Harry, cursing himself all the while, turned around.

"What do you want?"

Malfoy had lost his laughter, but the ghost of a grin still remained on his face. "I said, I _think_ I hate you. Think."

Harry sighed. "Yes, and I _think_ that you're drunk."

"Aha! There you'd be right." Malfoy released his elbow and took another swig of firewhiskey before turning away from Harry to face the snow-covered grounds below them.

Harry wanted to leave. He wanted to head down the stairs then, fall into his bed and forget about this whole encounter completely.

_And yet..._

Harry's eyes fell on Malfoy. They started at his blond head, hair mussed and ruffled as if someone had been dragging their fingers through it the entire night. Shifting down to his back, he took in Malfoy's dark coat, dusted in snowflakes that glittered dimly in the night. His vision came to rest on Malfoy's arm, his pale hand reaching blindly for the bottle next to him, reaching, _reaching,_ until Harry cleared his throat.

A stupid move, really, for someone who wanted to get away unnoticed, but Harry did it anyway.

Malfoy stopped trying to pick up the bottle. Instead he faced Harry again, crossing his arms over his chest in waiting.

"Malfoy."

"Potter."

"Why don't you—where're your friends?" Harry asked, half-wondering just what the hell he thought he was doing.

_You don't leave people on the astronomy tower alone, especially not drunk people, especially not drunk people at night, especially not a drunk Draco Malfoy, at night._

There had been notices at the beginning of the year—students who had been in the war, students who felt depressed, students who had... _thoughts,_ he could say, were urged to speak to their head of house or Madam Pomfrey. _Look out for your peers,_ they'd been told. _If you notice anything you feel needs to be addressed, do not hesitate to ask for help._

In other words, don't leave a drunk student alone on the astronomy tower in the middle of the night.

"Friends?" Malfoy asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Yeah. Parkinson, Goyle, Zabini." Harry shuffled his feet. His shoes really weren't meant for keeping him warm; he was starting to feel his toes going numb. "Do they know you're up here?"

Malfoy's laugh returned. "Oh, them. I doubt it, why do you ask, Potter? I didn't think you liked them either."

Harry made up his mind. _Mental,_ he told himself. _You've gone mental._

"Malfoy, you've got to come inside from here, alright? I'll get you down to Slytherin. Or—" Harry took a deep breath. _Mental!_ "—you can even go to Gryffindor, if you like."

Malfoy's eyes got wide. "Am I correct in saying that you, the golden child of the wizarding world, are offering me your bed for the night?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Yes, he supposed that Malfoy was correct, but only because Harry wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep if he left now, with no one else knowing Malfoy was up here.

"Potter," Malfoy said, smirking. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"You—oh, shut up, you're not sleeping in my bed, we've got an extra with—" Harry shut his eyes and shook his head. "You know what, I'm just going to—"

_"Potter."_

Malfoy's voice was softer this time. He'd dropped his arms and seemed suddenly more coherent, but Harry knew better than to  think he'd magically sobered up.

"I've always wanted to see the Gryffindor dormitory," Malfoy said, his tone light. "Pansy says it's not as red as I imagine, but I'm not sure I believe her."

Harry took a step back towards Malfoy. "Pansy? Why the hell has Pansy been in my dorm?"

Malfoy laughed. "Have I struck a nerve? She's never been in _your_ dorm specifically, Potter, I don't think she swings that way."

_Swings that way? What...?_

"Pansy's—? No." Harry shook his head again, trying to focus on what he was doing.  "We haven't got time for this, I'm going to freeze." Ignoring the panicked warnings in his mind, he pulled one hand out of the warmth of his pocket and held it out to Malfoy. "Are you coming or not?"

For a moment everything was silent. Harry watched snowflakes catch in Malfoy's eyelashes as he stared at Harry's outstretched hand, not saying a word.

He was about to say screw it, just turn around and leave before Malfoy could laugh at him when another hand fit into his, cold and smooth.

"You'd better pray I'm not too drunk to walk on my own," Malfoy said, stumbling forward. "I don't fancy holding your hand all the way to Gryffindor."

Harry took a deep breath as he led them down the stairs, Malfoy's feet tripping over themselves the whole way. "Yeah, the feeling's mutual."

Harry tried to ignore it, but despite their words, neither let go.

~~~~~

When they arrived in the eighth year boys dormitory, Harry was propping Malfoy up, arm gingerly snaked around his waist to prevent him falling and splitting his head open on the stone floor, no matter how much he might deserve it after having to be practically dragged through the castle to Gryffindor.

Harry began to really, _really_ regret his decision.

"Harry?" Ron looked up sleepily from his bed, his hair sticking up and shirt buttoned wrong. "Heard you coming in. Who's— _Harry, why the fuck is Malfoy in our room?"_

Harry gulped. "He was up in the tower, alone, and I thought..." He fell silent, instead gesturing with one hand at the slightly-swaying boy next to him.

"You thought it'd be smart to bring him here? Where he can murder us all in our beds?" Ron groaned and covered his face with a pillow.

"He's not—I'm just going to let him sleep, and then he's out tomorrow morning. It just felt... Necessary."

 _And right._ It felt right, for some odd reason, not that he'd ever admit it.

"Weasley," Malfoy drawled. "Shouldn't you be in bed with Granger? Don't see the appeal, personally, but—"

"Oh, _shut up,_ you stupid prick." Ron made a rude sign and held it up to Malfoy, and Harry felt Malfoy's laughter against his side as he held him up.

"You," Harry said, shrugging away from Malfoy, "Go find a bed. Seamus' should be—" He faltered at the end of the sentence.

Seamus' bed should've been empty now that he was dating Dean and spent the night with him, but it was occupied from what Harry could see in the darkness. A snoring boy that Harry didn't recognize had taken up residence there instead, a blue and bronze tie knotted around his forehead.

"Ron, who the hell is that? In Seamus' bed?" Harry stepped next to Ron and shook him. "Why's he in here?"

Ron turned over and rubbed at his eyes. "I dunno, he said something about a bloody knocker talking in riddles. Probably drunk. Neville let him in."

Harry sighed, remembering Ravenclaw's password system. So that left them with only one empty bed at the moment, _his own,_ and there was no way Malfoy was going to—

_Oh, no._

Malfoy was not at his side. In fact, Malfoy was not anywhere in Harry's line of sight, and he was not making nasty comments or laughing drunkenly or making a sound at all, for Harry would've recognized such a pretentious, annoying voice in the quiet. There was only the sound of Ron shifting in his bed, trying to go back to sleep, and the soft snoring of the Ravenclaw boy.

_Fucking hell, this cannot be happening._

Taking a deep breath, Harry turned to face his bed, where a now-sleeping Draco Malfoy lay quietly.

_Fuck._

Malfoy was passed out on Harry's bed, taking up the whole of the right side and stretching into the left. His hair had fallen in his face, fluttering in time with his breaths.

"I leave him alone for one goddamn _second,"_ said Harry, gesturing at his bed. "Ron. _Ron!"_

"Wha—oh, Merlin." Ron sat up, looking incredulous. "He's in your bed. He's fallen asleep in your bed, Harry, he's going to kill you when he wakes up."

"How's that _my_ fault? He should've just..." Harry didn't know how to finish that statement. _Should've just what? Not gotten drunk and required me to bring him back here in the first place?_ "Ron, where am _I_ supposed to sleep?"

Ron was still staring at Malfoy asleep in Harry's bed. He shook his head before falling back on his pillows. "Dunno, mate. 'S too bad. Maybe you can just... y'know, move him over. A bit." Ron's voice started to fade and Harry could tell he was falling asleep again.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Yeah. Yeah, alright, just..." He moved to the edge of his bed, still fully clothed. Sleeping next to Malfoy was enough, he wasn't going to change in front of him, even if he wasn't awake to see it.

Harry pulled off his shoes and sat down to the left of Malfoy, slowly tugging the sheet out from under them.

_This is insane._

Harry nudged Malfoy, freezing at the muffled sound he made as he rolled over. When Malfoy didn't shout, or strangle him, or even wake up at all, Harry gingerly slid under the sheet and pulled it over the both of him. He turned away from Malfoy and took his glasses off, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

How was he supposed to know that when he'd gone up to the astronomy tower to escape the party downstairs he'd come back with a drunk Draco Malfoy and end up having to sleep next to him?

_If only Neville hadn't let that Ravenclaw—_

No. 'If only's wouldn't help the situation now. The only thing Harry could do was fall asleep and sort it out in the morning. After all, maybe Malfoy would be too hungover to care.

Harry shut his eyes and took a deep breath, willing himself to fall asleep, and somehow, with Malfoy beside him and unfamiliar snores outside his bed, he did.

~~~~~

The first thing Harry felt when he woke was warmth. He'd fallen asleep last night on the very edge of his side of the bed, pulling the sheet around him tight and still feeling the chill of the night air, though it wasn't as bad inside the dormitory.

But now he was warm, comfortable from the inside out and still not fully awake.

Blinking and seeing no more than a blur of the room around him, Harry tried to sit up and find him glasses.

_Tried._

There was something stopping him, something heavy and solid, something wrapped around his waist— _No, that can't be—_

Something, Harry was realizing, like Malfoy's arm snug around him, holding him in sleep.

_Oh, shit._

He'd just woken up in bed with _Draco Malfoy_ in a position that looked dangerously like _cuddling,_ and to make things any more confusing, it hadn't felt _awful_. In fact, it felt quite the opposite when Harry shut his eyes for a moment and took it all in: Malfoy's arm around him, his back against Malfoy's chest, soft breath on his hair.

It was comfortable, _sweet,_ even, but Harry didn't need thoughts like that around at the moment. What he needed was to find his glasses and extract Malfoy from his bed without causing a scene.

He started shifting slowly in the bed, sliding up away from Malfoy's arm when a hand tightened around his middle. Harry froze, holding his breath.

"Mmm, 's warm," Malfoy murmured, eyes still shut. "Don't... Jus' stay."

_Stay._

Harry felt his face heat up. Malfoy seemed to still be asleep, nuzzling his face into Harry's back in a way that made it impossible for Harry to get up.

Was this how people with hangovers normally behaved? Was it possible that Malfoy was asleep and still drunk, only wrapped around Harry because of the alcohol muddling his thoughts?

Harry was about to untangle himself from Malfoy, shake him awake and let him leave the dorm unnoticed, but then Malfoy let out a small sigh, curling his hand into Harry's shirt.

And it still wasn't awful.

Harry twisted his head to get a better look at Malfoy. He could see him clearly enough to notice his pale eyelashes, the rise and fall of his body as he slept, the bitten fingernails against his shirt.

Suddenly Harry didn't care that Malfoy would have to leave the dormitory with everyone watching. He was exhausted and confused by the boy in his bed, and it wasn't his responsibility to make Malfoy's exit discreet.

Really, all Harry wanted to do was go back to bed. He put his head back down, aware of Malfoy against him yet firmly refusing to think about it, and shut his eyes.

Soon his breathing matched Malfoy's and he slipped into sleep.

~~~~~

When Harry woke the second time that morning, his bed was empty.

He tried not to feel disappointed at this.

He rubbed his eyes in the sunlight and reached for his glasses, catching a scrap of parchment from underneath them. He sat up against a pillow and unfolded the parchment, scanning the slanted script quickly.

_Thanks for not kicking me out._

_See you around, Potter._

It was unsigned, but Harry had a feeling he knew who it was from. Groaning and tossing aside the sheets, he wondered if Malfoy had put it there just to mess with his head.

_Would be just like him, annoying git._

Harry got out of his bed and looked around for his friends, but the dormitory was empty. It seemed everyone had already left for breakfast, Malfoy included.

_Fantastic._

Harry tugged on his shoes and attempted to straighten his clothes. Tucking his wand into his pocket, he started out of the dormitory. Malfoy's little _'see you around'_ might come earlier than he'd expected.

 

**Author's Note:**

> not sure when updates will happen, but more chapters are planned.  
> feedback is always appreciated, and thanks for reading xx


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